The Siren's Song
by reveur-de-minuit
Summary: AU. Dramione. Hermione is a witch-turned-siren, Draco is chosen by the Gods and Minister of Magic to carry out a quest to put an end to the Siren's reign. What happens when the two meet and realize that the world is far more complicated than either could known?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **_This is just something I thought would be interesting. It's my take on the mythical creature the 're not traditional Sirens, I altered them because I don't like the idea of half-bird ladies. So instead they're eerily reminiscent of mermaids, except they're not mermaids. Hopefully I explain that well enough for you to understand. If not, then, oh well. Everything will make sense in the story. If you can't already tell, this is AU and the characters are OOC. For the time period, I picture everything happening in the Ancient Greece era. Oh and Odysseus' big epic journey was actually done by Harry Potter. I wanted to keep him big and famous and that's the only way my tired brain could think of. Please R&R! It would be greatly appreciated. It's kinda slow in the beginning (sorry!) but it picks up after a bit. I'm setting it up so that one chapter will be in Hermione's POV and the next Draco's. Both of these chapters will be covering the same moment in time, just told through the different perspectives. I'll be doing this until they meet, in which case it will be told solely through Hermione's unless I feel the need to do otherwise. Anyway, without further adieu, I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

_In the beginning there were just two of them._

_Half bird and half woman, singing on sea-cliffs they lured sailors to their death. Later, they exchamged feathers for scales, changing their appearance but not their dietary habits._

_Then there were four, each as ethereal as the next. _

_When the stormwind blows, they starts to sing. They sing from far beneath the waves, a sound so sweet, so high and long. The secret music of the deep. It lulls the sailors fast asleep, each enchanted by the siren's song._

* * *

Dusk crept upon the golden shores of the cove, the sun reflecting off of the waves that glittered with a golden glow. Lazily reclining upon the sandy beach was a group of women who had risen from the shores in preparation for the upcoming night. The group of women looked human, ranging from the mortal ages of sixteen to twenty-five. None of them were human, however. Their ethereal beauty was gifted to them by the gods, and they were all flawless. Each woman was different from the others, their own aura allowing them unique ways to catch their prey. The women were lying together in a circle, laughing and speaking jovially. There was something new in the air tonight, each person could feel it.

"Hermione?" a raven-haired girl asked, capturing the attention of one of the smaller women in the circle. Hermione snapped out of her reverie, glancing at the girl beside her.

"Yes, Luna?" she asked. Her fingers absentmindedly played with the soft sand beneath her, drawing lazy patterns. Her eyes nearly fluttered closed as a light breeze momentarily overcame the sun's merciless heat.

"You had that look again." Luna replied, gazing at her with curiosity. A delicate flush rose upon her cheeks as she glanced at the mindless pattern her fingers were creating. It was happening more and more. Hermione was the only girl in the group who knew how to read the language of the humans, and she had spent the day pouring over one of the texts she had found in one of the abandoned ships. The others mocked her for her avid curiosity with their stories, but Hermione couldn't help herself. Each tale was as grandiloquent and epic as the last. Her mind had drifted to the ink-stained pages as she recreated the scenes in her mind. The other girls were worried about her fascination with the human's texts, and they had a right to be. Hermione was the only girl in the cove who was once a human herself. She didn't remember what it was like. Ten years ago today she drifted upon the shore of the cove, and the girls had found her close to death. The leader, Evangeline, had seen something in her and prayed to the gods to turn her into a siren. Her prayers were answered, and Hermione had spent the last decade of her life learning the ways of the sea nymphs. They had become her family, her sisters.

Hermione had heard legends of the sirens before she became one. She had heard of their appearance, with upper bodies of women with wings and legs of birds. But the legends had been exaggerated, for they looked just as human women did, but with an ethereal beauty and grace that no mere mortal could possess. Evangeline was the oldest siren, who was three-hundred and some years of age. Hermione was the youngest, at a mere nineteen. Silence fell around the group before Hermione realized they were all eyeing her intently. She squared her shoulders, keeping a level gaze with each of the cunning women.

"Hermione, we shall hold a feast tonight in your honor. It is your tenth year here with us, and the girls agree that today should be celebrated." Evangeline declared. Hermione smiled at the news, her face aglow with happiness.

"Thank you, girls, really." She said sincerely. All nodded in recognition of her thanks, then looked to Evangeline.

"The sea is bringing a ship in from the West. It should be here by midnight. There is something about it that is different, it feels as though it is enclosed by heavy magic." A sharp gasp rose from each member of the group, their eyes wide. A ball of dread crept into Hermione's stomach, and a nervous sweat broke out over her body. The other girls presumed it was due to the news, which it was, but it was much more than that.

When Hermione turned eleven, two years after she became a siren, the other members declared her too young to hunt yet, so she would stay back on the island and wait. They didn't know what she did in the long hours of her solitude, for none had asked and she hadn't told. She became aware of her abilities when she was being hunted by one of the few wolves on the island. She didn't mean to hurt it, and nursed it back to health immediately afterwards, but she had done something to it. Something she couldn't control. After years of practice and honing her abilities, she found out what her powers were when she read one of the texts from a ship. She was a witch, as it was called, and had the ability to wield magic. Such a thing was impossible for sirens, but Hermione wasn't born a sea nymph. She didn't dare tell any of the other women about her ability. They would kill her on the spot. Instead, she read books on things called spells, charms, curses, and hexes, and managed to teach herself this magic.

The sirens were scared of magic. They didn't understand it or how it worked. That Evangeline could sense it made Hermione pause with trepidation. None had noticed her magic so far, so maybe she had heard of the magic from one of the creatures that helped them. _Yes_, she rationalized, _that makes more sense_.

"What are we going to do?" Aurelia asked, a mix of fear and anger wracking her delicate frame.

"I do not know. Tonight we will use every ounce of our powers to lure the men in. They may be able to use their magic against us. If they attack, you will kill them swiftly." Evangeline spoke with a grim tone. Her heart tugged at the thought of losing any members of the group. The death of a siren was uncommon, but it wasn't impossible.

"We will practice our strengths until they come." Hermione ordered, the idea popping into her head the moment it came out her mouth. The girls looked at her, surprised she spoke up. It was unlike Hermione to join in on their conversations, unless it was to provide useful information or ideas, such as now. Evangeline nodded her approval of the idea, and the girls immediately scattered amidst the shore.

Each sea nymph had their own ability to lure the men into the water. Aurelia was the most gifted singer, whose voice could enchant even women and children if they happened to be onboard. Luna could enrapture multiple men at a time with her erotic dance. Selene was gifted with the ability to play haunting melodies on a small harp. Evangeline was the most beautiful siren, and men would fight for their chance to be with her. If they weren't killed in the brawls, she would kiss the champion then drown them. Hermione still didn't know what her specialty was. She could sing, but her voice wasn't nearly as good as Aurelia's. She could dance as well, but not with the finesse that Luna possessed. She was unable to learn the ways of instruments. She was nowhere near as beautiful as Evangeline, whose hair was like spun silk the colour of gold. A woman with such a light shade of hair was unique, and called to the Mediterranean men.

The others new of her struggle to find her calling, but assured her she would find out one day just what it was. It took each girl years to master their art.

Hermione walked along the coast, far away from the closest girl. She faced the West, allowing the last of the sun's gaze to wash over her skin. She kept walking for another half hour before coming across the cave she used to practice her magic. The other girls had no reason to come to this part of the island, for it was just sand for miles and miles. They preferred the lush tropics of the East coast, and liked being closer to the available food and shelter. Hermione trailed her hand along the cave walls, humming an old sailor song to herself. The cave was carved out of jewels, and certain walls had been obliterated, giving her a glimpse of the sea. The cave itself wasn't dark, and her heightened vision allowed her to see easily in little illumination. Finally she came upon the soft furs that carpeted her space. She picked up one of the books and began to practice. A certain protection charm had been harder for her to master, but after a few attempts, she was successful in creating an invisible shield. It was only in this cave that she allowed her mind to become completely absorbed in her task, blocking out anything else that may distract her. When midnight was approaching, Hermione gazed out one of the holes in the cave, a sharp gasp escaping her lips.

A tall, grand ship was sailing just a ways away from her haven. Hermione raced out of the cave as fast as she could, haphazardly putting everything away should the men or other sirens stumble upon her cave. After running for what seemed like hours, she slowed to a comfortable pace. Luna was pacing on the beach, her mouth set in a grime line of determination. Her eyes were ablaze with relief when they settled on Hermione.

"Where were you?" She asked, stalking over to the younger girl. Luna was always Hermione's closest friend of their group, and she couldn't help the pang of guilt at the thought of worrying her. She considered all of the girls to be her sisters. She offered a sheepish smile.

"I got carried away with my practice." Hermione tried to sound contrite, and she did feel bad, but there were more pressing concerns. Her answer seemed good enough for Luna and she began to walk away.

"Wait, I saw the ship. It's here." She called out. Luna stopped, and in an instant, the other members of her group were there, having overheard her news.

"Where did you see this ship?" Evangeline asked, excitement bursting from her.

"The West coast, nearly a half hours walk from here." Hermione replied.

"What is the ship like?" Evangeline asked, beginning her brisk walk over to the coast.

"It was grand, more large than the ships we've had lately. A crest was embedded on the mast of the ship, but I couldn't discern what it was." Hermione listed off as she tried to picture it in her mind. Most of the ships that come by their cove were large, but this one was different. She could tell it was transporting people of high value, for it was the largest ship she'd ever seen. The girls ran, eager to get to it. All paused, a silent appreciation running through them as they gazed upon the massive vessel.

It was undoubtedly the largest craft she'd laid her eyes upon. Its silken, white sails reached high towards the heavens. Gold accented every available inch of the ship. The wood looked sturdy and remained glossy, even after sailing the rough waters. Hermione could see the emblem imbedded in the mast now. It looked to be a crest of some sort, with a large M surrounded by interlocking serpents. Perhaps it was a ship named after Medusa? But there was no reason why a group of men would name a ship after another kind of monster out to kill them. It must have been for something else, but the serpents made her pause. She could see some men on board, but it would take a great deal to reach them. The ship rose high out of the waters.

"Tonight will be a challenge. Call upon the sea to take you to its deck." Evangeline ordered, before jumping off of the 80 foot cliff. The other girls followed suit, leaving Hermione to call upon the waters to lift her through the air. The other girls transformed the lower half of their bodies into tails with shining scales and fins the moment they dove into the ocean. Hermione had yet to be gifted with such an ability, and instead rode the water and commanded it to take her to the ship. Once her feet touched the water, anticipation and exhilaration flooded through her veins, exciting her beyond belief. The makeshift platform carried her quickly to the deck. She silently cast the protecting shield she'd read about in her texts. Satisfied that it was undetectable, she allowed a soft smirk to rest upon her lips. Her amber eyes scanned the ship, taking in the men who stood calmly, their arms carrying varying kinds of swords and daggers. There were at least fifty that were visible. The other girls were already scaling the ship. Hermione watched as Evangeline made her appearance.

The air grew thick with silence, before Aurelia and Evangeline began a haunting duet. The men stood, entranced by the women. Quite a few lowered their weapons, and the girls targeted these few. Within a minute, nearly thirty men lay dead upon the wooden deck. Selene chose then to make her appearance, along with Luna. Hermione sucked in a gulp of air to calm herself before stepping onto the railing of the ship. A heavy thrill crept down her spine as she came into contact with the vessel. It held the same buzz as her magic, and seemed to hum in the air, as though it were alive. Hermione wanted to explore the feeling, but forced herself to cease all thoughts of magic and looked around the ship. Three men looked at her with lust-filled eyes. She smiled serenely at them, making her way over to the small group. The moment she touched each of the men, she propelled them over the side of the ship. Guilt tore at her, but she quelled the feeling. Her human emotions always got the best of her. She needed to be unfeeling if she hoped to be as good as her sisters.

It took nearly ten minutes for the ship to be devoid of life. The girls looked at each other, a smug expression on each of their faces. Hermione didn't feel at ease, however. Surely a ship so big couldn't thrive without more men?

She cautiously made her way towards a set of large wooden doors, intricate engravings marring its flawless surface. It was then Hermione realized what the markings were. She recalled that one of the texts called them runes. She lifted a finger, tracing one of the more intricate carvings. They were captivating in books, but the illustrations were nothing compared to the real thing. The girls continued singing, sensing Hermione's unease. After her exploration, she tugged on the crystal handles, marveling once again at the display of opulence. She quietly crept inside, taking the steps that led downwards.

A plush carpet the colour of red wine blanketed the halls. Hermione momentarily savoured the feel of such a substance against her bare feet. The wooden walls were stained a rich cherry and were illuminated by golden sconces. Hermione continued walking, her curiosity now driving her forward. She eyed a cracked door that spilled light into the hallway. She would have walked past if it weren't for the voices inside.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco Malfoy looked down at the map before him, before a deep scowl set itself on his face. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.

The damn Ministry had ordered that he assemble a team of five of the best aurors and sail his _own_ ship to the Siren's cove. If the Minister wanted him dead, he could've just executed him, it would've been much more efficient. Even then, he knew that the Minister was counting on him and his team to resist the impulses of the sirens. He didn't know how that was possible. All the legal magic in the world wouldn't stop the lure of the sea nymphs, it was common knowledge. But the gods had chosen him to lead this suicide mission, so he had to go through with it. He supposed he could always use dark magic to ignore the temptation of the siren's, but the gods had shown up before he had the chance to research anything. He was visited by both Aries and Eros in his dreams every day for the past fortnight.

The gods had cursed him, turning him into a creature that fed off of the energy of others. They had turned him into a veela. Draco didn't know why he was punished, but the two gods had told him it was to help aid him in his quest. The gods told him of a particular siren, one who was turned by Poseidon himself. She was once human, just as he once was, and because of this, she was a witch. She was more dangerous yet more valuable than anyone alive knows. The gods told him alone this information, and thus he kept his lips sealed. They told him how to hone his skills, how to resist their call. The gods wanted him to succeed in his mission.

Absolute secrecy was required of him. He trained how to fight, and practiced his new abilities when he was sure there was no one around. In between practicing, he managed to compile the list of people who would be working with him. He needed people who were good at their job, stared down death readily, and were strategic. So far his list consisted of Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Cormac McLaggen, Eddie Carmichael, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter. He hadn't wanted the last two on the list, but after taking a look at their records, and with their fame, it was nearly impossible not to consider them.

Now, a month later, he was sitting behind the opulent desk in his study, and nightfall was quickly approaching. They would be at the cove by midnight, and he wanted his men to be well prepared by the time he shipped them off to their deaths. He took another glance at his maps, a frown pulling his lips downwards. He considered what the gods had done to him before leaving him alone for his quest.

Aries had managed to turn Draco into the perfect warrior, a killing machine. He had always had the ability to shut off his emotions, but now, it was as though he had none at all. In duels he was merciless and killed men as though they were nothing more than irritating flies. He turned off his conscience, and allowed himself to feel the thrill of killing. Eros turned him into this damned creature, this veela, which he claimed would give him superior control and restraint. The only woman, creature or not, that he would ever be attracted to again, would be his mate. He initially frowned at this news, for he quite liked the life he was leading previously. Apparently being the creature he now was, Draco was able to ignore the pull of the sirens. He wanted to be angry at the gods for changing his life, his species, but he knew that he would need any kind of help he could get if he wanted to succeed. He had asked why none of the other men were 'gifted' as he was, but their answer had been somewhat chilling.

_Your ambition combined with your dark ancestry will turn you into a powerful dark wizard._

Draco was somewhat disturbed when he first heard that. The gods wanted him to become a dark wizard? Most were punished by the gods, not encouraged. Did he even have the potential to become a dark wizard? He hadn't thought so, but now that the gods themselves had told him how black his heart was, he was beginning to think otherwise. The Malfoy ancestry was harder to deny. Since he could remember, his family openly practiced dark magic, and he became accustomed to it at an early age. Was that really what separated him from the rest? His ambition and his family?

"Captain?" A voice called, drawing him out of his thoughts. He didn't even bother glancing up from the map.

"What is it, Potter?" He asked, mild irritation flooding through him. It didn't matter how good the famous Harry Potter was at his work, he and Draco had never gotten along, and he doubted they ever would. They had hated each other from day one. When he was sorted into Slytherin and Potter into Gryffindor, that just sealed their fate. They would hate each other until one, or both, of them dropped dead.

"The men are ready. How many should go up for the first attack?" Potter asked. He knew just how much the Wonder Boy hated being second in command. He may have battled some of the most fierce creatures on Earth, but he had one hell of an attitude when it came to working with others. The man thought he was invincible, going off on quest after quest and fighting as many beasts and titans as he saw fit. Draco briefly wondered if the gods had helped him out every time. After working with him for a week, it was obvious Potter wasn't good enough to complete any of his quests on his own without some kind of divine intervention.

"We've been through this before, you dolt. I want fifty men up there for the first round. Make it fifty of our weakest men so that the sirens underestimate us." Malfoy explained. He had gone through the plan three times now. Potter had this annoying habit to reassure himself of all the details of a plan multiple times. It did nothing to help things run smoothly, and ended up giving Draco constant headaches.

"Right. Thanks, _Captain_." He spat the title, obviously displeased to have to use the term in reference to somebody else for the first time in his life. Draco merely rolled his eyes at the display of immaturity and continued analyzing the maps.

The island where the sirens' lived was small, maybe only a few thousand square miles. The East half of the island was covered in lush tropics whereas the West half was primarily sand and caves. The West coast was lined with cliffs on one portion, before sloping dramatically downwards to meet the sea. If it weren't for the inhabitants, the island would undoubtedly have a bustling city on the coast. It was located between Italy and Greece. It would be a successful trade city, and would bring the two countries closer together. Perhaps he should look into that when he returns home.

He ignored the slam of the door and tsked Potter's poor treatment of his ship. This was _his_ baby, and no one would damage it. Not while he was still around. The ship had been gifted to him by his father, but Draco transformed the vessel into a craft that demanded the attention and respect of all those who set their eyes upon it. Due to the extensive wards and magical boundaries set on it, he could ensure that it would be in safe hands. He despised that he had to put down most of the wards in order to allow the sirens on board. It was ancient magic that he didn't want to trifle with. But if it meant catching the damn things, he was more than willing to let down a few wards.

* * *

It was midnight. He knew the ship had been seen, it was too large to go unnoticed by the creatures. He gave the signal, and the armed men walked onto the deck. Some masked the fear, whereas others visibly shook. He knew that he should feel some sort of guilt for sending these men to their deaths, but he didn't. These men were weak, and by default, useless. He and Potter went back to his study, both silent and straining to hear the sounds of a struggle. He grabbed a tumbler and two glasses, offering a glass of one of the finest whiskeys in Europe. Potter hesitated before knocking back his drink, wincing at the burn. Draco smirked. The bastard couldn't even take hard liquor.

He glanced at the closed door then back to Potter, knowing the expression on his face. He wanted to say something, but was searching for the words to express his thoughts. After a week of sailing in close quarters, it became apparent that Potter had a hard time expressing himself.

"Why are we doing this again? It doesn't even make sense anymore. We're all going to die out here. We all know it." Potter declared. His lack of hope was a startling sight. If anything, the Gryffindor seemed to have an unhealthy dose of optimism. Maybe this is the prat's first real dose of reality.

"You know our orders, Potter." He replied simply, his voice cold and indifferent. It was best to remain detached and not to dwell on the deaths he caused. He glared at the raven-haired boy in front of him.

"I know what our bloody orders are, Malfoy! But you just sent fifty of our men to their deaths. Even magic can't stop the pull these things have." He snarled. Malfoy had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Potter was just throwing a tantrum. He needed to get his shit together and suck it up.

"Then send fifty more. Hell, send a hundred more, I don't care. I won't stop until we capture these creatures and bring them back to the Ministry." Malfoy growled. Potter always knew how to test his patience. He didn't care how many people died in order to get the sirens, he just wanted them locked up so the Ministry could poke and examine them. All he dreamed about was returning home and bedding all of the willing women who were waiting for him.

_Not anymore_. His mind told him. Once again he was coldly reminded of who he now was. He didn't care for the creature inside of him. It had remained happily dormant thus far, other than giving him the same image of russet curls and tanned skin. He ignored the images and continued with the task at hand.

As he thought about his veela-half, he realized it was waking up, causing Draco to tentatively sniff the air. The faint scent of a woman's arousal washed over him like a bucket of ice. In an instant, his blood was rushing through his veins, his member straining against his pants. The smell was maddening, and he was overcome with the urge to find the woman and fuck her senseless. He restrained the primal urge and merely glared into the fire, his annoyance growing. She smelled like honey and some kind of warm spice he couldn't place. He wanted to taste her, to feel her beneath him. His body was tense, his muscles tightening as he tried to restrain himself.

"How can you be so heartless? Don't you understand that these men are _people_? They're going to die because of you." Potter screeched. His irritating voice was nearly enough to shake off his arousal, especially combined with his accusation. He closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. He knew he was torturing himself, but her scent was like a drug. It was just _so fucking_ _good_. In the silence that followed, he realized that there was no more activity on deck. He tried to feel the slightest ounce of guilt, but there was none. Perhaps he was as heartless as Aries and Eros said.

"Sounds like they're already dead. The deck has been silent for the last five minutes. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to order the next group of men upstairs." Draco declared. He needed to get away from this area of the ship. Her scent was invading his mind, trying his restraint. He swung the door open, and the scent nearly doubled in its power. He hesitated, his eyes scanning the wall across from him. Immediately he recognized the blurred outline that hugged her silhouette. She was under a disillusionment charm. If he wasn't so aroused, he would've applauded her for the strength of the charm. The scent of her arousal doubled with the close proximity. He resisted the urge to throw her against the wall and take her right then and there. The gods knew he wanted to. It took every ounce of his restraint to turn and walk quickly down the hallway.

At least she was a witch. That counted for something. His mind suddenly exploded with a series of questions. How did she get on board? Why hadn't she been noticed until now? Who was she? His veela recognized her as his mate, but he didn't even know what she looked like, or what her name was. How had she managed to get passed him and his crew so easily? Why was she unknowingly making her presence known now? Hell, why was she even aroused?

He could feel a pressure build behind his temples at the onslaught of questions. He sighed, and registered her scent right behind him. So she was following him. For some reason, he wasn't surprised. Did she recognize him as her mate? The question sounded ridiculous, but he wouldn't doubt it. He had known from scent alone, and she had seen him. The unfair advantage she had made him slightly angry. She was a smart witch if she managed to remain unnoticed the entire time, and the thought made his heart swell with the smallest twinge of pride. If she was of pure blood and was somewhat respected in society, that would be the icing on the cake. Otherwise he'd have to fabricate some elaborate lie as to why he was going to marry her.

The thought of marriage nearly made him cringe. While most twenty year old men had wives and children by now, he still didn't want to be tied down at least for another year.

He descended the steps to the crew's bunk room, which had been enchanted to accommodate the lot of them comfortably. As he came to the final step, a hushed silence fell upon the room as the crew waited for him to speak. He inwardly smirked at the effect his presence had over such a large group of people. He let the cool mask of hatred and disgust slip over his face. It intimidated the men into action, and he wanted this to be over by the end of the night.

"I want all of you on deck now. Do what you have to, to catch these bitches." His voice rang out into the silent air. Cheers and victorious cries echoed in the dismal place.

"Yes, Captain!" A few cheered.

He felt her presence quickly leave, and he was puzzled. Why had she left so hastily? He didn't seem to care enough about that, and instead, began to climb the stairs, leading his men to their deaths. Again he tried to feel the smallest sliver of remorse, but was unable to do so. Training with Aries had done him well, it seemed. It left him cold, bitter, and merciless. Just what he needed to be in order to take these bitches down. They were the bane of his existence at the moment, and the quicker he captured them, the better.


	3. Chapter 3

"You know our orders, Potter." Said a rich, masculine voice. At the deep sound, Hermione silently gasped, her body flooding with sensation. Shivers swept down her spine, her nerves dancing beneath her skin. She was intrigued. She wanted to know who this man was, and what orders they had. She could kill them now and not bother, but she hesitated. She could listen for a while before going inside and killing them, she rationalized.

"I know what our bloody orders are, Malfoy! But you just sent fifty of our men to their deaths. Even magic can't stop the pull these things have." said another lighter voice. She assumed this was the 'Potter' that the other man was speaking to. She turned his name over in her mind. _Malfoy_. She would have said the name aloud if she didn't fear it would give away her location. Their voices were different from hers. They didn't sound Greek or Italian. They had an accent she couldn't place, and it bothered her. She ignored Potter's reference to her as a 'thing', even if it made her slightly bristle with anger.

"Then send fifty more. Hell, send a hundred more, I don't care. I won't stop until we capture these creatures and bring them back to the Ministry." Malfoy growled. Heat coursed through her at the sound of his voice. She was puzzled. Never before had she ever felt this way towards a mere human before. Her body throbbed with need. She could feel herself grow slick with desire as warmth pooled low in her belly. Could it be because he was a wizard? Then why didn't she feel the same pull towards this Potter man?

She froze, her movement paralyzed when she registered Malfoy's words. They hadn't come here by some unfortunate accident, they had come here on purpose. They were going to capture her and her sisters. Anger spiked through her. He wouldn't be able to follow through with such an order, she would make sure of it. She had half a mind to barge into the room and murder him herself, but there was something telling her to wait, to keep her presence unknown.

"How can you be so heartless? Don't you understand that these men are _people_? They're going to die because of you." Potter sounded livid. She didn't understand what was really going on. They were here to capture the sirens and return them to something called a Ministry, but this Potter didn't like the methods they had already used. So what if people died? The men inside this room had sent them on deck on purpose, knowing they were going to die-which they already have-so there was no point in arguing over it. She rolled her eyes at the stupidity of men.

"Sounds like they're already dead. The deck has been silent for the last five minutes. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to order the next group of men upstairs." Malfoy declared. Hermione could hear his muffled footsteps as they approached the door. Her heart began pounding in her chest as she quickly thought of a spell that would help her. Her eyes widened as she muttered a Disillusionment charm over herself, and cringed at the sensation pouring over her body. She glanced down, satisfied that it seemed to work, and held her breath. She could hold her breath for hours at a time, which she often did when she scavenged the shipwrecks.

The door swung open, and Hermione felt her heart stop. She felt need strike violently through her as she gazed up at the man before her. He was tall, taller than most men she'd seen, and towered over her small frame. His white silken shirt betrayed his large, sinewy muscle. He was pale, but had the hints of a tan atop his flawless skin. His shoulders were broad and his build was powerful. His face was masculine, yet held a grace that was reserved for royalty. His lips were full and sensual, his bottom lip forming a slight pout. His nose was straight, and the planes of his face were smooth. It looked as though he was carved out of marble. His hair was the palest blond Hermione had ever seen, and it fell rakishly across his eyes. Of everything on this man that could make her tremble with desire, it was his eyes. Hermione had never seen such a colour on a human before. Even as they glowed with anger, his eyes burned mercurial silver.

In mere seconds, she was quivering with desire. If she ever wanted to know what Adonis looked like, she would guess it would be the man standing not even a foot away from her. She had never known the desire to be with a man to be this strong. Yet as she looked upon the male in front of her, the feeling burned within her, setting her nerves alight with sensation. She unconsciously inhaled, and she could feel her mind shut off. His scent was provocative and all male. She wanted-no needed-him to take her. She didn't care where or how, she just need him inside her. This man seemed to stare right at her, and for a moment, Hermione wondered if he could see through her charm. She nearly let out a sigh of relief when he turned and walked briskly down the hallway, his strides long and confident. He held himself differently from other men, and Hermione swore she could see his aura of confidence and power radiate from him. If anything, it only made her all the more attracted to him.

She followed him, her footsteps silent as she trailed behind. She watched curiously as he descended another set of stairs that led to a much less opulent level. Here everything was composed of regular woods and the floor didn't have any plush blanket atop its planks. He continued, leading her through several twists and turns. He opened a door, and inside were rows upon rows of beds, some suspended one on top of the other. Hermione's eyes widened as she took in the wonder before her. Her heart beat with anticipation and excitement as she looked upon the men that quivered with fear. There were at least eighty, and Hermione debated whether she should run and warn her sisters now, or wait until they began their ascent. She couldn't help but look at him with awe as the room fell into a hushed silence from his mere presence alone. He was respected and powerful. Just the thought made her more wet.

"I want all of you on deck now. Do what you have to, to catch these bitches." He commanded. His voice was the same rich, deep sound that she heard from within the office. If she had any doubts that he was Malfoy, they were erased. Hermione's heart stung at the fowl word. She glared at him, even though he couldn't see her.

"Yes, Captain." The shout echoed around the large room. She paused for a moment. So he was their captain, their leader. Her heart sunk. If he were to be with any of the sirens, he would undoubtedly go to Evangeline then. With the thought, she turned, racing back up the stairs. She made her way through the maze to the second level, much to her surprise, and continued to race towards the deck. She cancelled the spell before she threw open the intricate doors, eyeing the girls as they lounged lazily atop the deck, obviously bored.

"Eighty more men are coming." Hermione shouted, capturing the attention of the siren's. Evangeline nodded in understanding before rising to her full height. The others did the same, preparing themselves for the next wave of men.


	4. Chapter 4

Moments later, the men flooded onto the deck. In the same instant, all of the sirens began their song, Hermione joining in on the haunting melody. At once, all of the men fell silent as they gazed upon us in wonder.

Hermione heard the first couple moments of a fight break out over Evangeline, and the soft sound of the harp accompanied their song. Luna had gathered quite a group of men, who were dropping like flies around her. Hermione captured the attention of the men, slowly walking back towards the railing. She had a challenging look in her eye, daring the men to follow her. They did. Every step she took back, they took forward. She then called to the sea, and continued stepping backwards, and nearly laughed as the men continued to follow her, and fell to their deaths in the process. This tactic worked to get ride of ten men, and Hermione counted that they had been reduced to forty in mere minutes. She touched back down to the ship once more, swinging her hips as she'd seen Luna do. A few of the more brave men came forward, desperate to claim her as their own. She allowed them to come near her, no matter how repulsive. Before she allowed any men to kiss her, she threw them over the side of the ship.

Ten minutes later, and there were only ten men left. It had taken longer, for these men had a stronger will to fight. Hermione gazed upon a tall, lanky man, whose hair was like the colour of fire. He wore a lot more gear, and had the strongest will of the group. He had managed to resist all of the others advances so far, but Hermione could feel his will eroding as she seduced him. Her hand came up to caress his cheek, and she sang louder. His eyes darkened with lust, and Hermione knew she had won him over. She allowed her nails to lengthen into claws, raking her hands through his hair. He groaned in pain at the sensation, but didn't move away. She trailed her nails from the crown of his head to his collarbone. He winced in pain. Hermione pulled his head to hers, pressing her lips roughly against his. She could feel him melt beneath her touch, the evidence of desire straining through his clothing.

_How pathetic_. She thought, noting that his size was considerably lacking. His kiss was sloppy, but she would have to endure it if it meant survival. She hastily untied his armor, knowing that his mind was too fogged with lust to register what she was doing until it would be too late. Just as she suspected, she managed to rid him of his chest plate, and ripped a clean line through his shirt, exposing pale, freckled skin underneath. She teased him, allowing her claws to lightly drag across his skin without puncturing the delicate organ. Her hand lay over his heart. His hands were roughly gripping her breasts, and her desire to end his life was growing rapidly by the second. Without a moment's hesitation, she plunged her claws into his heart, ripping the muscle out from his chest. His body fell in a heap to the ground, and she carefully placed the heart back inside his body. Her guilt was encompassing, but there was nothing she could do about it. The blood that stained her fingers mocked her, even as she retracted her claws. She wiped the red substance off of her fingers until her skin was unblemished once more.

In the time it had taken her to seduce the red-head, her sisters had managed to kill the rest of the men.

"Are there anymore coming?" Evangeline asked, her eyes trained on Hermione.

"I do not know, I came as soon as I found out that more were coming. But this ship didn't come here by accident. It isn't just passing through." Hermione said, hoping to get all of the information out as soon as possible. She needed to go back down to see if more were coming.

"What do you mean by this?" Luna asked.

"I mean that this ship was sent here to capture us. The men were sent to take us back to a place called the Ministry." Hermione disclosed. The others looked fearfully among one another.

"Well if this Ministry wanted us so badly, they should have sent women, not men." Selene said, her voice heavy with mocking. The others agreed, Hermione included.

"Go back inside and see if you can get more information." Evangeline commanded. Hermione nodded in acquiescence, moving silently inside the doors once more.

As soon as she was out of sight, she cast the charm over herself again, satisfied when she was no longer visible. She walked over to the room that the men had been talking in before, but the only person inside was Malfoy. Hermione stood in fascination as she took in the flames that burned green. She had never seen fire such a colour. Her eyes widened as she came to the assumption that this was more of that magic.

She shouldn't stay here. Her sisters were counting on her. But as she stood there, she couldn't help but admire this Malfoy, enraptured by his mere presence. A bustling came from the other end of the hall, and another man, this one with raven-coloured hair and jade green eyes, stormed into the room. He made to close the door, so Hermione slipped inside unnoticed. She stood and watched, waiting to hear what was to be exchanged. It would undoubtedly be important.

"Those fucking whores killed Ron." the man spat. Hermione bristled with anger. How dare he call her and the others whores!

"Then you shouldn't have sent your so-called best friend out there, Potter." Malfoy sneered. His voice was cold and menacing. There was something dark about him. It was almost as though he wasn't as humane as the others. Hermione made a mental note of this.

"It wasn't my choice, it was yours. Now we're down a hundred and thirty men, Malfoy. Do you have any idea of how serious this is?" Potter screeched. His body was tense, and he looked ready to attack the calm blond. Hermione watched in fascination as he pulled out a stick from his pocket, aiming it at Malfoy's face. Hermione nearly laughed. What could a stick do to him?

"Lower your wand, Potter. No more blood will be shed tonight unless it is the blood of the sirens." Malfoy growled. His deep voice brought desire through her system, as through drugging her with an aphrodisiac. She didn't like this Malfoy person, he was the leader attempting to capture her and her sisters, and he called them awful names, yet she couldn't help the desire she felt towards him. She had never experienced lust in such a manner before. Perhaps it was the magic.

Potter seemed to be going through some kind of internal debate before lowering the stick, or wand. She read about wands, and she was suddenly gripped by an overwhelming desire to acquire one of her own. She could only do so much wandless magic, and apparently the stick of wood made spells a lot easier. She had tried making a wand out of a stick, but it hadn't worked. She made the conclusion it wasn't something one made, but had to trade or buy. She wondered what she could offer in exchange for such a valuable item.

"Damn you to Hades and back, Malfoy. It's either we pull away and consider this a failed operation, or we try to capture those bitches and kill off more of our men, and maybe even us." Potter snapped.

From Hermione's perspective, those did seem like the only conclusions the men had. Her sisters wouldn't let the ship leave, but it was admirable that they would try. She frowned at the thought of her sisters killing Malfoy. Maybe there was someway she could keep him. Her heart lifted at the possibility. She would have to keep him a secret from the others though, they would never understand.

"I'm not leaving until all of the sirens are captured. I don't give a damn if you have a problem with that. I'm the one in command here, not you." Malfoy rose to his full height, towering over Potter. He glared down at the smaller man, who visibly flinched at the animosity in his silver gaze. At the display of power, Hermione felt a warm liquid trickle down her thighs. Her desire for the strong man was growing by the second. She wanted him, which puzzled her. She had never before felt the urge to be with a man. He was dark, she could feel that. His energy pulsed with darkness and power. She didn't care as to why, she just knew that it made him more dangerous than the others.

"I hope you realize that when this ship goes down, which it will, I'll be cursing your name until the end of eternity." Potter spat, before spinning around and leaving. Hermione just stepped out of the way in time so he didn't come into contact with her. He slammed the door shut immediately behind him. Her eyes widened in panic. With the door closed, there was no way to escape. He would notice the door opening and closing of its own accord. She stood paralyzed as she took in the gravity of the situation. If he wanted to capture her and take her to this Ministry so bad, she was a sitting duck. He could notice her at any moment. Nerves erupted in her stomach, rivaling the feelings of lust coursing through her system. Now was not the time to act upon her sexual urges. She needed a plan. As she stood alone with Malfoy, she didn't hear his soft incantation. Nor did she hear his sharp intake of air. It was only when she looked up, her gaze locking onto silver eyes stormy with malice and lust, did she realize what just happened.

This Malfoy had discovered her.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco could hear the struggle occurring above him. He blocked out the sounds of their screams, and knocked back his fifth shot of firewhiskey. He needed to keep a clear head, but the drink was all too tempting for him to pass up. He needed the momentary distraction from the massacre happening on his deck. He gazed into the fire, which he cut off from the floo network. The fire still blazed green, but he didn't mind. It reminded him of his Hogwarts days, which for better or for worse, distracted him. The fight seemed to be going on much longer than before. He could hear the splashes as his crew was thrown overboard into the sea.

He didn't understand how these creatures could kill so mercilessly. They fed on men, but they wasted so much food by killing every male soul. He knew the Ministry wanted to examine them, figure out how their existence came to be. They had heard of the tales of Persephone, but two of the sirens themselves were her maids. They wanted definite answers, and these creatures were the only things that could give them to the Ministry. He also knew that the half-siren hadn't been discovered by the Ministry yet, so the gods hadn't told the Minister. Draco felt a rush of pride when he knew he was the only person who was aware of this secret.

The sirens were proving to be elusive. He would've guessed that they would come down through the entire ship to make sure no men were left alive, but they seemed to stay on the deck. Perhaps it was like them to do such a thing, Draco didn't know. He just wanted to capture those bitches and take them in. He would be hailed as a hero for capturing the dangerous creatures, and his name would be placed higher and higher in society. If he wanted to become Minister one day, he had to keep his name on the good side, forever reminding the world of just how important he would be.

A sudden stillness overcame the room, and he knew that it was done. His second round of men were dead. A frown tugged at his lips, not from the guilt he hoped for, but from disappointment. If they were to go against such powerful creatures, the Ministry should have provided him with soldiers, warriors, not common men.

He heard the sound of furious footsteps before Potter stormed into the room. He shut the door after him, and Draco immediately noticed the blurred image to his right. So his mate snuck back in again. He almost smirked at her cunning ways, but refrained from doing so. He lazily inhaled her scent before preparing himself for the outburst Potter looked like he was going to give him.

"Those fucking whores killed Ron." Harry shouted. His voice was filled with hatred and disgust. Draco sighed. Weasley had been next to useless the entire trip, so the news didn't surprise him. He felt no sympathy for the raving boy, and instead felt a sick twinge of happiness at the news.

"Then you shouldn't have sent your so-called best friend out there, Potter." he sneered. He always hated the weasel. He came from a poor pure-blood family and rode off the coattails of Potter's success. He was never an excellent fighter, and he was certainly no genius. How Potter thought he was more of a help than a hinderance still puzzled Draco, even after news of the red-head's death.

"It wasn't my choice, it was yours. Now we're down a hundred and thirty men, Malfoy. Do you have any idea of how serious this is?" Potter screeched. Oh he knew how serious this all was. He'd known from the start. It was just like the immature git to point fingers. He nearly rolled his eyes when livid man pointed his wand in Draco's face. Draco felt his body tense, but he didn't let his unease show. He knew that Potter was no beginner when it came to a wand. Potter may not have been as good as himself, but he certainly knew what he was doing.

"Lower your wand, Potter. No more blood will be shed tonight unless it is the blood of the sirens." He growled. The scent of arousal heightened, and Draco nearly groaned from the strength of the scent. It was doing maddening things to him, his brain refused to work when near the intoxicating aroma. His grip on his own wand tightened as he tried to keep his riotous feelings in check. So she liked the display of power he exhibited over Potter? That was something to keep in mind. Knowing that he was causing such a reaction from her was nearly his undoing. He wanted to throw Potter out then pound into her endlessly. He hardly registered when Harry lowered his wand, and glared at him venomously.

"Damn you to Hades and back, Malfoy. It's either we pull away and consider this a failed operation, or we try to capture those bitches and kill off more of our men, and maybe even us." Potter snapped. The insult hardly registered in Draco's mind. He did however, note that the options he gave were true. It was either they catch the creatures, or die trying. He was just so sick of Potter's whining and bitching. He was so painfully optimistic until the last second. He was a fucking coward.

"I'm not leaving until all of the sirens are captured. I don't give a damn if you have a problem with that. I'm the one in command here, not you." Malfoy growled, rising to his full height. He glared down at Potter with every ounce of hatred and irritation he was feeling. His mate's scent was nearly suffocating him now. She really did get turned on by power play. He waited for Potter to storm out before turning to her blurred form. he muttered a quick disarming charm, but she didn't have a wand on her. Ignoring the odd revelation, he muttered a finite incantatum.

Holy fuck.


End file.
